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Y loving, constant, faithful, gentle wife,
Than thou amid the shadows on my heart.
I hail the sweet return, on annual wing,
Of that memorial morn of wedded love, When like a snow-drop in the early spring,
Or voice in Eastern land of turtle-dove,
I knew by thee the winter past and gone,
And summer came with melody and flowers; Thou wast the prophet of a sacred home,
And seasons guarded by celestial powers.
And still, beloved wife, but one in heart,
In the sweet union of our bridal vow,
In blissful tenderness to us below,
Is the sure prophet of that love in heaven
Of which his grace permits some foretastes now,Dear Earnests of the bliss awaiting there
The objects of his never-ceasing care.
O H, dearest wife, the strength of love
Can ne'er be known by speech; The ocean of its sacred depths
No measuring line can reach.
In vain shall poetry essay
Its form divine to paint; But every lover knows to-day
It makes him half a saint,
And half a poet. Witness bear,
Ye masters of the lyre! Who taught your ardent strains to breathe
Creative power and fire?
Was it not love? Could e'er on carth
So blest a school be found,
Each household's sacred bound?
Though sixteen years their course have run
Since ours commenced its rule, Love's lessons still we learn by heart,
Content to stay at school ;
And willing, in the world's esteem,
Its wisest fools to be; — Obedient to the Gospel scheme
Of love's true liberty.
CINCE every day doth but repeat w The love with which our life begun, Truly the morning light is sweet,
'T is pleasant to behold the sun,
In whose dear realm we journey on; Each year more perfect and complete
The vow that made our being one.
We see the clouds with mercy fraught,
And brightly shining through our tears, The Love Supreme that rules our lot;
A rainbow in the sky appears, Whose span divine controls our fears, By the same hand of glory wrought,
That binds the comets in their spheres.
And e'en amid the gloom of war
The love that was our morning light Looks on us as the evening star,
And will be shining all the night,
Which as a day of Heaven is bright For souls that, dreaming, see afar
The stairs that greeted Jacob's sight.
Angelic visitants are ours;
For though their flaming wings they hide, Not less they work as heavenly powers
For Him who doth for those provide That in his promises confide,
Protecting their defenceless hours, And turning every dart aside.
And if it well be understood,
Love's promise can be heard to say That every hindrance is for good;
Each form of seeming sad delay Is but an inn upon the road,
Or sweet refreshment in the way, By which we travel up to God.